


Eau Savage

by frankcastles (Deathtouch)



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Punisher (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Non-superhero AU, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 04:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5360570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathtouch/pseuds/frankcastles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“what about a ‘hey i’m sorry to bother you but i’m trying to convince my friends i’m a sex god so can you please write a fake number on this napkin for me real quick’ au” [<a href="http://gerardwaysshorts.co.vu/post/109435037447/what-about-a-hey-im-sorry-to-bother-you-but-im">x</a>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eau Savage

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd! all mistakes are my own. loosely based on prompt. written before s1 of daredevil aired.

“Listen,” the voice - masculine in nature - came from Matt’s left. There was a rustling on the bar top, somewhat indistinguishable among the din of the bar. Matt quirked his head a little.

“I just need you to scribble any ten numbers on this paper so that my partner will let me leave.”

Oh.

In Matt’s opinion that was an odd and relatively inappropriate way to ask someone for their number. Then again it didn’t sound like this guy really wanted his number. It sounded like he wanted to go home. He sounded exasperated or tired. If his breath was anything to go by he’d been drinking scotch but he didn’t seem drunk.

“…I’m sorry?” Matt turned on his bar stool, opening himself up to to the stranger a little better.

“My partner is going to try and set me up on a date if I don’t ask someone in this bar tonight for their number.” The stranger explained the situation. He was clearly quite unhappy with the predicament he’d been put in.

Partner? Such an odd word to use. Matt wondered if this man was a cop.

“She’s… just right there at that table on the other side of the room. She’s got the reddish hair in a bun.”

Matt thought maybe this man was pointing her out, and he frowned.

“If you just… you… can’t see.”

Ah, there it was. Matt smiled politely. Took him longer than most to figure it out. Matt had leaned his walking stick up against the bar, but maybe it was hard to see from the stranger’s position. The glasses usually what tipped most people off though. Matt thought he heard the stranger mutter something derisive under his breath, but he couldn’t quite catch it. He was usually good at picking up on quiet things but in a bar it was all a wash.

“I’m… sorry I asked.” The stranger added in a mutter.

He seemed to be stepping away, if the sound of his voice carrying further away from Matt’s side meant anything. Either that or he was leaning back or turning to face the opposite direction for whatever reason. Matt hesitated and lifted a hand, drawing attention to himself.

“Wait,” He said, waving in the general direction of the strangers voice. “Is… are you wearing Eau Savage?”

There was a very, very long moment where Matt was sure the stranger had gone off and he’d asked the air the question. Then he heard a soft, aborted noise.

“…yes.”

Matt smiled, less of a polite smile and more of an earnest smile this time around. His father used to wear that scent. It was so clean and sharp, almost lemony with bitter rosemary undertones; utterly earthy and wood-like. It was masculine in the right ways, and it felt like being home. There was a hint of sweat that came with this stranger, also very accurate to what Matt’s father smelled like. It was such an odd thing to remember. Matt hadn’t smelled Eau Savage in years.

“Do you have a pen?” Matt asked politely.

“I…” The stranger sighed. “You shouldn’t… you don’t have to do that.”

Matt thought that this guy was the grumpy sort, probably embarrassed to be made to get someone’s number like this. “It’s alright,” Matt allowed with a dignified nod of his head. “We wouldn’t want your partner setting you up on any uncomfortable dates now would we?”

There was a long silence that followed.

“A pen?”

Matt could hear the stranger rustle with his clothes a little before the indicative clicking sound of a pen in hand. He placed it very gently in Matt’s open fingers. Matt slid his thumb along the length of the pen to determine which way was up before adjusting it in his grasp. “Ah… and what would you like me to write it on.”

“Oh,” The stranger seemed to consider. “Should I write it?” He asked, somewhat clueless.

Matt shook his head. “I’m perfectly capable of writing.” His handwriting may not be perfect, but he hadn’t always been blind. He had learned to read and write as a kid, and he had to sign legal documents almost daily so he wasn’t out of practice yet. He just needed something to write on.

There was a very long moment before the stranger reached out, and gently took Matt’s pen-hand into one of his own. His fingers were rough, calloused in areas. His grip had the capacity to be quite strong, Matt could feel the muscles and tendons under his skin. He wondered if this stranger was good looking or not. By the sound of his voice Matt was imagining someone older. His hands did not feel especially wrinkled though.

“It’s just a scrap.” The stranger explained, placing Matt’s hand on the bar over a smooth piece of paper.

Matt reached out with his other hand to feel the length and size of it before he quickly jotted down ten numbers in quick succession, no dashes or parenthesis.

“That ought to satisfy.” Matt said cheerfully, lifting the scrap of paper and holding it out towards the Stranger’s general direction.

It was a while before Matt felt the slip of paper being pulled from his fingers.

“I’m sorry for the trouble.” The stranger said, sounding quite defeated.

“Then you can buy me a drink before you leave.” Matt said in return. He was going to use this little interaction to his advantage. He was supposed to be meeting Foggy, but since Foggy was running so late Matt figured he could indulge in at least one or two more drinks.

“Sure,” the stranger agreed, and he didn’t sound entirely grumpy this time. It was amazing what a little humor in his voice did to change Matt’s opinion of him. “What are you drinking?”

“Gin and tonic.” Matt replied.

The stranger likely flagged the bartender down, because the next thing Matt heard was a different voice asking “Another scotch and water, Frank?”

Frank. So the stranger had a name. The name Frank painted an entirely different picture in his mind. Matt was suddenly imagining dark hair.

“Sure, and a gin and tonic too please.”

Frank must have stepped closer, probably just closer to the bar to grab the drinks when they were ready, because Matt got another whiff of the cologne. It was such a welcoming scent. It really made him smile. He smelled leather, and maybe gunpowder too. Matt was so enticed by the ensemble of it all, he couldn’t help but wonder what Frank’s home smelled like.

His thoughts jumped quickly from Frank taking him home to Frank fucking him raw on his bed. Soft cotton sheets and the scents of Eau Savage and sex thick around them. His ears rang, and he shifted, hopefully hiding the fact that he got half hard just at the thought of being plowed. How embarrassing, Matt really needed to get laid.

“I didn’t catch your name.” Frank said, breaking him of his thoughts.

“Matt, Matt Murdock.” He said, after a moment to clear his throat.

“Here’s your gin and tonic, Matt Murdock.” Frank gently took one of Matt’s hands in his own and lead it to the side of a glass sitting atop the bar. “Thanks…” He added, with some degree of uncertainty.

Matt took a sip as Frank quietly slipped away. It was top shelf gin, that was for sure. The usual scents of the bar replaced Frank’s cologne, and Matt was sorry for the loss.

It was barely two minutes before he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He had a specific ring tone set for when Foggy called, and another for established clients. The tone playing now was for when unknown numbers were calling. It wasn’t hard to guess who it was. Matt slid the phone out of his pants pocket and answered with a soft smile. “Hello?”

“Oh, shit.” A distinctly feminine voice came from the other line. Then, slightly muffled as if she was not speaking into the phone Matt heard her say “Frank, he actually gave you his real number.”

Ah, so this must be the partner. Frank had described her as having reddish hair in a bun, and she was quite likely police or a detective. Her voice sounded assertive in nature. Matt had an easy time picturing her.

“I’m sorry, who’s this?” Matt continued, completely complacent.

“I- oh. Whoops. I’m sorry, this is Rachel.”

Matt wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Rachel who?”

“My partner, Frank Castle, just came over and bought you a drink. Listen, buddy, he’s not going to say this to you directly but it’s been seven years since his last-”

There were odd scuffling noises.

“Shit, he’s leaving.” Rachel’s voice changed a little. “I have his phone and he’s leaving! Hold on, I have to follow him.”

Matt could actually hear the door open to the bar. Then there came the sound of a female voice through the haze of glasses clinking and voices taking, he could hear Rachel calling Frank’s name across the barroom. It echoed through the phone into his ear.

The door to the bar opened and closed again, hinges squeaking. On the other end of the line Matt could hear and Rachel’s quiet breathing.

“-anyway, it’s been seven years since he’s been with anyone. He’s- FRANK! Slow down!”

Matt thought he heard Frank’s garbled voice on the other line saying ‘hang up the phone’ but it could just be someone else saying something else.

“He could use a good guy.” Rachel continued, unhindered.

There was more calamitous noise for a few seconds before the line went dead.

Well…

Matt hung up and considered that one of the weirdest calls he’d gotten in a long time. Not bad weird. His heart definitely went out to Frank, a struggling police officer who had been alone for seven years. If he was a police officer. Maybe he was a detective. Matt tried to think of other jobs that beheld 'partners’ in the title. His own, of course, but these two didn’t strike him as attorneys.

Matt wondered why this guy hadn’t been in a date in so long. Had there been a divorce? That was something police officers dealt with often, right? He tried to imagine Frank’s rough hands holding the hand of a beautiful bride, and then a pen over divorce papers. That didn’t seem right though. There was a sadness to this guy, a sadness that was hidden in his tired tone. It might have been a death…

“Hey, Matt-” Foggy’s voice was welcome and familiar. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I got caught up at the client’s office, there was construction down half the block, and two off duty cops were goin’ at it outside.”

Matt couldn’t help but smile. Police officers. Huh.

“Was the male officer good looking?” Matt asked, attempting to seem only mildly curious.

Foggy set his bag on the table with a huff. “Y'know it’s weird that you know things like that. He wasn’t like a male model or anything, but yeah he had this scruff and these muscles…” Foggy trailed off.

Matt’s smile must have given him away.

“C'mon, are you kidding? Don’t tell me you already have a date with this guy!” Foggy had always been a little jealous of how fast Matt moved.

“Not yet,” Matt admitted. But he was curious now. He wanted to know more. “But I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading
> 
> [tumblr](http://deathtouch.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/deathtouchxx)


End file.
